


Sins of Confession

by cadkitten



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Confessional, Demons, Desperation, Exorcisms, Father Grayson, Father Todd, Flashpoint (DCU), Frottage, Ghost Sex, JayDickHell, Lust, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Orgasm, Rape/Non-con Elements, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-27 16:46:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8409157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadkitten/pseuds/cadkitten
Summary: "Father, how did you come to find this demon in your confessional?"Jason sat back, closed his eyes again as he rested his head against the smooth wood of the wall. "I invited a parishioner to share their sins and whilst within my confessional, the demon bid to visit me.""Perhaps..." Jason could hear the Father's voice shaking slightly, even on the single word, "it was the demon itself that you invited into your booth."





	

**Author's Note:**

> For JayDickWeek3 Halloween Week. Day 6: Father Todd  
> Beta Readers: kate1zena  
> Song[s]: "Castle" by Halsey / "Won't You Be There" by Nero / "Beautiful Pain" by Eminem (ft Sia)

Jason's head hit the wall of the confessional with a soft _thud_. Gritting his teeth, he gripped the edge of the bench just a little bit harder, doing his best to keep himself _grounded_ , to keep his hips from rocking upwards, burying himself deeper into this fucked up little fantasy. 

Gasping in a shaky little breath, he held it, trembling as he listened to the quiet drone of a voice from the other side of the mesh between him and the other half of the booth. The wood creaked beneath his fingertips as he shuddered forcefully enough that his shoulders jerked.

The air around him swirled with a familiar scent: the gentle essence of a forest, of moss and pine, of bitter aspen and sweet berry, the dampness of leaves just after a rain, and the _horrid_ stench of earth just beneath. A breeze rippled through the confessional, picking up in intensity until his breath was stolen in entirety from his lungs.

Jason's hips jerked up, hovering as his eyes rolled back in his head, as the hand of death itself gripped his throat, as his sweet voice whispered in his ear - and, just like that, he plunged over the edge, the warmth of each pulse of cum spreading in his slacks. Dropping back down against the bench, he _felt_ the air clear, felt his breath return and his head clear, warmth returning to the little box.

The voice on the other side of the screen paused and the language became familiar to Jason's ears, a whisper of something he knew would be branded into his mind for years to come.

"Watch ye and pray, lest ye enter into temptation. The spirit truly is ready, but the flesh is weak." The door to the booth opened, the hinges squealing, the wooden floor squeaking beneath their feet.

Jason slumped against the wall, heart pounding, sweat on his brow, only one verse coming to mind as he wiped the back of his hand over his forehead. "For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places." 

For the first time in Jason's life, he was absolutely certain he'd just met a demon. He'd been shown a hundred passages, viewed a great many confessional tapes that seemed to imply the person on the other side was - indeed - a demon of some degree, but Jason was now sure that the real evil had remained hidden behind the flashy curtains of what was quickly amounting to a Hollywood-level game.

Gathering himself up, covering the wet stain on the front of his pants as best he could, he took a deep breath and slipped out of the confessional, disappearing down the long hallway just to the side of it.

\------

Three days later, Jason found himself in a church on the other side of town. He'd hidden his priestly garb behind a hooded sweatshirt and he fully intended to keep his hood up no matter what would come of this. He made his way through the pews to the small confessional tucked in the alcove on the right side of the building, paused for a moment to see if he could hear the murmur of voices. When he didn't, he pulled the curtain aside and stepped in.

The little box smelled faintly of incense, an undertone of pine-scented cleaner and Jason thought it was nice that it had been cleaned recently, at least. 

Settling on the bench, he hunched forward, braced one arm on his thigh, crossed himself, and took in a deep breath. "Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been years since my last confession, and I accuse myself of the following sins." He hesitated, listening to the breathing of the priest on the other side, heard the soft intake of breath and then the most gentle of voices he'd ever heard from the other side of a confessional wall.

"Go on, my son."

Closing his eyes, Jason settled into his hunched over position. "I have inadvertently convened with what I believe to be a demon. I did not ask it into existence nor did I intend to experience the heights of lust that it drove me to. Nonetheless, I have cavorted with it and I did feel the effects of its spell upon my being."

"Where were you when this happened?" The priest's voice was gentle, held a note of compassion that Jason hasn't expected to hear when confessing about a demon. Not that he, himself, would not have offered some amount of kindness to a parishioner, but it felt _different_ having it offered to him. 

"In confessional."

"You have waited years to tell this before God?"

Jason swallowed thickly, realizing he would be caught for who he was, that there was no way around it now. He took in a hitching breath and opened his eyes to study the floor in front of him. "No... it has been three days."

There was a creak of the priest shifting on the bench and a whisper of a prayer, words Jason barely caught, but knew by heart regardless. "... Father, how did you come to find this demon in your confessional?"

Jason sat back, closed his eyes again as he rested his head against the smooth wood of the wall. "I invited a parishioner to share their sins and whilst within my confessional, the demon bid to visit me."

"Perhaps..." Jason could hear the Father's voice shaking slightly, even on the single word, "it was the demon itself that you invited into your booth."

"Worry not, Father, for I am not the demon, only a victim of its intentions." Jason turned to wedge his back against the wall, pulling one leg up and wrapping his arm around his knee, leaning there, his eyes now flitting over the darkened corners. "I am not here on the sins of the demon, but on the sins of my own flesh created by the demon's circumstance. We are taught to _avoid_ such sins and - yet - I could not. I did not even try to free myself from it while it was happening."

"We have all given in at some point, with or without intention, in the binds of our sleep or at the hands of your demon."

He fell quiet for a moment and Jason took the opportunity. "When have you fallen victim to your sins, Father?"

A soft chuckle drifted to Jason through the wooden slats. "Twice in my years of service and a great many times in my youth."

"We have all convened in our youth, have we not?" Jason rolled his head back, gazing up at the ceiling. "But I had not since taking my vow until the demon took hold of me."

Again, another whispered prayer and then, "Are we speaking metaphorically about a demon, Father?"

"No... I do not believe I am." Jason sighed. "A young man came to me, he began his confession as any other, but midway through, he began to speak another language - one I have not heard - and with it, he brought a presence into creation within my box. Wind... lust... what felt like hands gripping at me in ways no one has ever dared behold my body. I was manipulated to completion by a force unseen, though very much felt." 

Even the memory left Jason's thighs tingling, his heart beating rapidly in his chest and he whispered out a rushed, "Forgive me, Father... for even speaking about it excites me."

There was a moment of silence and then, "Perhaps I, too, should be asking for forgiveness then."

Jason's heart thudded in his chest as he rubbed his palm over his thigh, deliberating. "Father... by what name may I call you?"

"Father Grayson. And you, my son?"

"Father Todd." Jason's breath hitched and he turned to settle correctly on the bench again. "What did you do to cleanse yourself of your transgressions?"

"I hid them away. I fear it was not nearly as pious as your response has been."

Jason straightened his hoodie, standing and closing his eyes. "My confessional is open to you across town should you desire it." He pushed his hands into his pockets, bowing his head. "I ask for your absolution, good Father, in what way might I have it?"

"A number of Hail Mary's consistent to the number of times you feel appropriate and five Our Father's should be sufficient, my child."

"Thank you, Father." Jason pulled his rosary from his pocket, clutched it in his hand and knelt. He listened to the soft rumble of the priest say his closing blessing, whispering his own. He stood and heard the rustle of the priest crossing himself as he did so as well. 

"Go in peace."

"As for you, Father." Jason pushed open the curtain, taking only a few steps before footsteps joined his. He paused, turning to glance at the other priest, finding stunning ice blue eyes watching him worriedly. He offered a slight bob of his head. "I will await your visit, Father Grayson." Turning away, Jason made his way across the church alone, heading for the doors. 

For some reason, he didn't feel a single bit less sinful for his confession.

\-----

Jason rubbed his hand over his face as another person stepped into his confessional booth. Dropping his hand to his lap, he waited on whoever it was to speak to him. For a moment, he heard nothing but the creak of the other person moving around, and then a breath of words he didn't understand and fear lanced through him.

"My son, it is you again, is it not?" He listened to the voice hesitate and then continue. He felt the first stirrings of a breeze in his confessional and he pushed himself back against the wall, kept his back rigid as he stared forward. "I do not wish to partake of your sins again, my son. Please... allow me to provide you with your forgiveness and we can move away from this-"

"I will not be dissuaded, Father," the voice purred in his ear and Jason's breath hitched as warmth ghosted over his body, settling in his lap. Warmth gripped against his thighs, pressed toward his chest, and he gasped as his body responded, the ache starting to gather itself in his nether regions. 

Desperate, Jason grasped at the only thing he knew he possibly could. Closing his eyes, he began a prayer, mouthing the words but not speaking them, his breath the only sound from his lips. The breeze became a wind and Jason's body burned with the sensation of his arousal penetrating whatever this was. A shudder ripped through him and he gritted his teeth, hissing out the words to the prayer now.

The walls rattled and the box became ice cold except the warmth of the demon on his lap. The persistent words from the other side of the booth continued and Jason wanted to _scream_ , knew that no matter how pleasurable this was, he wasn't supposed to be enjoying it.

The door to his side of the booth opened and Jason forced his eyes open, watched - trembling - as Father Grayson stepped into the box and pulled the door shut. For one instant, Jason feared the worst - that this man had been the one causing this all along - but the foreign words continued from the other side of the confessional grate. 

Father Grayson knelt, chalk scratching against the floor as he mapped out a demon's trap. He uncapped a flask and poured salt around the outside of it, drawing himself back into a corner as he met Jason's eyes, bringing his rosary up and mouthing out the words to a prayer as he pressed his palms together. 

The wind picked up and Jason whined as the demon on his lap seemed to _ride_ him, rubbing frantically against him. His arousal spiked and he gripped the seat so hard he swore he was going to splinter the wood. 

Father Grayson stood, opened two bibles and laid them one atop the other, nodding toward the circle.

Jason forced himself to move then, flung himself off the seat and into the midst of the circle, felt the _thing_ clutching at him, knew it was frantic to cause him more arousal as it gyrated against him, the world around him nearly vibrating with the desperation of its actions. A wail rose up and Jason realized the other priest was chanting, realized the thing on him was growing more and more corporeal by the instant. Gasping, he grappled with it as it rode him wildly. He could feel his end coming up on him quickly, could feel just how much he wanted to know the sin of orgasm once again, and he let out a scream of frustration as he ripped it free of himself, tossed it to ground and stumbled free of the circle.

Without thinking, he took the bible he was handed, found the passage Father Grayson was chanting and joined him, clutching his cross as he did so. The thing in the circle _screamed_ and Jason shielded himself as he brandished his cross at the being. 

It felt like _hours_ , but with a final wail, the being popped out of existence, the faint smell of ash left behind. Jason felt himself falling towards the floor, felt arms around him, guiding him down until he and Father Grayson were kneeling together, Jason gripping him just as tightly as he was clenching his jaw. 

From the other side of the booth, a small, anxious voice whispered, "Father? Father... am I free?"

Jason felt Father Grayson's hand on his back and he closed his eyes, listening as he was provided his penance and his forgiveness, listened to the way Father Grayson spoke the closure prayer and as the small voice waveringly thanked him and the squeak of the door closing.

No further sounds came and Jason remained where he was, trembling as he realized how shockingly aroused he still was. "Forgive me, Father.... for this is not over for me."

Father Grayson gently removed the bible from Jason's hand, placed it on the bench, and then he was _there_ , all woodsy cologne and shockingly _firm_ as he leaned in. "Would you prefer to continue your sin to completion, my son?"

Jason bit back a groan, letting his head thump back against the wall as he reached for Father Grayson, fingers tightening against his biceps. "Yes, Father."

"Then it shall be _our_ sin, Father Todd." 

The creak of wood came as Father Grayson shifted to kneel over him, the sound of their zippers being lowered achingly loud in the otherwise silent confessional. Father Grayson's warmth settled astride him and this time, Jason didn't resist, didn't _want_ to resist. 

Biting lightly at his lip, he watched as Father Grayson took both of them in hand, gasped as he began to move above him. 

Looping his arm around Father Grayson's waist, Jason tugged him in close, braced his feet, and began to thrust up against him. He pressed his lips against Father Grayson's ear, breathing out, "Father... how do I know you are not the demon with actions like these?"

There was a breathy little laugh and then, "And how shall I know you have not seduced me into these actions, Father Todd?"

Jason's hand covered Father Grayson's and he helped him to tighten the grip, moving them faster as he shifted to catch his lips with his own, tongue delving in to taste, sloppy and desperate. His hips arched up hard and he _whined_ , unable to stop the needy sound from bubbling up. 

Their lips parted and Father Grayson's hips jerked harshly against him a few times before he was throwing his head back, sighing in pleasure. Jason felt the throb of Father Grayson's cock against his own, watched as thick spurts of cum landed over their hands and peppered his slacks. He shuddered, thrusting up into the mess of their fists, and then he was following the good Father over the edge, watching his own cum mix with Father Grayson's.

Arching hard, he rocked a few times and then eased back down, gasping for his breath, his heart pounding in his chest. _Nothing_ had ever felt like this had and he was certain going back on this was going to be a hundred times harder than abstaining from it had been. 

Father Grayson shifted to push himself up, began to clean up with a handkerchief from his pocket, and Jason breathed out a quiet huff of a laugh. "Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been one week and three days since my last confession." He glanced up at Father Grayson, finding the knowing smirk on his lips. "I accuse myself of partaking in willing sexual relations with another man."

"I, too, have found myself in these clutches, my son. Would you take from such a situation again?"

"I would, Father." Jason watched as those beautiful blue eyes were turned back toward him, as a small smile curved those delicate lips. 

"Then I fear that I would find myself in sin again as well."

"Perhaps... we both shall need our penance then, Father."

"And what penance would you find to be applicable to such a situation as this? The expulsion of a demon, the cleansing of a parishioner, and the relief of what has been created by the demon... is that really so wrong that we must ask forgiveness?"

"My body has felt the sins of the flesh, a vow has been broken. In this, we owe some penance no matter the situation."

Father Grayson was quiet for a moment and then knelt, leaning in and pressing his lips gently against Jason's own, speaking as he remained just as close against him. "Then we shall find our forgiveness in time and with however many Our Father's we see fit, and should the time come once again that we find ourselves in one another's company... we shall once again our penance." Their lips met once more and this time, Jason kissed him back, hungry and _alive_ , knowing well that this wouldn't be the last time he would find himself with Father Grayson, and in that...he could find no regret.


End file.
